Forgiveness
by StBridget
Summary: Danny hurt Steve. That isn't okay. Danny just hopes Steve will forgive him. McDanno established. Continuation of The Shovel Talk: Grace to Danny. *Trigger warning: Suicidal thoughts (see author's note)*


Hawaii Five-0 is property of CBS and its creators.

*Trigger warning* Danny is afraid Steve will try to kill himself, which is why I marked it "suicidal thoughts". Steve doesn't and isn't thinking of it, but if just the thought makes you uncomfortable, skip this.

A/N: Pretty much everybody who commented on The Shovel Talk: Grace to Danny wanted to know if Steve and Danny got back together. So, here you go.

Spoiler alert:

They do.

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The house was dark when Danny pulled up. He nearly panicked, afraid Steve had done something stupid, but the Silverado was in the drive, so the panic eased some. Steve could still do something stupid like try to swim in his state, but Danny had more confidence in Steve in the ocean than Steve in a massive hunk of metal on wheels, especially with how Steve drove on a normal day.

Danny pulled two of the suitcases he'd brought out of the backseat of the Camaro; he'd get the rest later; getting to Steve was more important. Even though Danny supposedly lived there (well, he did, up until a few hours ago. No telling if he was still welcome. Danny wouldn't blame Steve if he didn't take Danny back), he set one of the suitcases down and lightly knocked on the door. No answer. Danny knocked harder. "Babe, you in there?" Still no answer.

Danny used his key and let himself into the dark house. He flipped on the small lamp by the door. The living room was empty—no Steve huddled on the couch trying to drown his sorrows in alcohol. Danny wasn't sure whether or not that was a good sign.

Danny debated on whether to check outside or upstairs next. He went into the kitchen. The back door was locked. Good. That meant Steve was in the house, probably. The dread in Danny's heart lessened just a little more, but there were still so many scenarios in which Steve could be overcome with grief and do something horrible, and Danny ran through every one on a loop.

Danny made his way upstairs, only turning on enough lights to see. He approached the door of the bedroom. It was closed, so Danny knocked softly, once again uncertain of his welcome. "Babe, it's me, Danny."

There was nothing for a moment, and Danny was afraid either Steve wasn't home after all, or he'd done something Danny wouldn't be able to bring him back from. Then, he heard a muffled voice, so quiet Danny wasn't sure he hadn't imagined it. "Go away." The sound was broken and hoarse, like Steve had been crying. According to Grace, Steve had been.

"Babe, please," Danny pleaded, "we need to talk."

"Don't call me that. I'm not your babe. Not anymore." Steve's voice held more sorrow than anger. Danny's heart clenched. God, what had he done?

"Babe—Steve, of course you are. Always," Danny said.

"Then, why'd you leave?"

Danny opened his mouth to reply, then stopped. He really didn't want to have this conversation through a closed door. He wanted to see Steve, wrap his arms around him, assure him that Danny was sorry and would never hurt him again. "Can I please come in? I don't want to do this like this."

Silence. Then, "fine."

Danny pushed the door open and entered the dark room. There was a mound of blankets on the bed. Steve, Danny presumed. It was hard to tell, but Danny thought the other man was facing away from him. It hurt Danny that Steve didn't want to look at him. Danny wanted nothing more than to stare into Steve's eyes and get lost in their depths, to drown in the love shining there like so many times before. Danny knew that wasn't going to happen, though. He doubted there would be love there tonight. Danny prayed he hadn't ruined their relationship forever.

Danny did a quick scan of the room as best he could in the dark. No pill bottles by the bed. Steve's weapon was on the bedside table where it usually was unless the kids were over; Steve had been surprised in his home far too many times to be far from it. Right now, Danny wished it were out of Steve's reach, but he'd take what he could get. Danny didn't see a knife or any blood, but he didn't rule it out. Still, the weight on his chest loosened even more.

Danny approached the bed. Steve didn't move. Danny reached out a hand and rested it on the lump where he judged Steve's shoulder to be. Steve flinched and moved away. "Don't touch me."

That hurt more than Steve's reluctance to talk to him. Danny withdrew his hand. "Fine, but will you please look at me?"

"Why should I?" Steve said.

"Because this conversation will be a hell of a lot easier if I'm not talking to a pile of blankets." Danny tried to keep his frustration at how hard Steve was making this out of his voice, but the detective didn't think he succeeded. Danny took a deep breath. He had no right getting angry at Steve; it was all Danny's fault, and he really didn't blame Steve for making this as hard as possible. Danny knew he'd have to beg to get Steve to let him come home, but that didn't stop Danny from wishing it were easier.

Steve didn't move, so Danny moved around the bed and crouched down in front of the blanket covered mound. Steve was completely encased. Danny reached out and fumbled with the top edge, finally managing to pull it back and reveal Steve's face. Danny was shocked at how bad Steve looked. His eyes were swollen, his nose was red, and his face was blotchy. Tears and snot streaked his face, some dried, some still fresh. Danny felt awful. He was the one who had done this to Steve. Danny had to make it up to him. "Can we talk now?" Danny asked.

"Sure. What do you want?" Steve said, belligerently.

Danny took a deep breath. "I want to apologize."

"Why should I forgive you?" Steve's voice was still hostile.

Clearly, Danny was fighting an uphill battle. Still, he persevered. "Because I'm deeply sorry. I hurt you, and I didn't mean to."

Steve looked at Danny, incredulous. "Danny, you left. You packed a suitcase and walked out the door. How was I supposed to take that? I thought you were never coming back." Anguish filled Steve's voice, and it tore at Danny's heart. He'd done this to Steve. His actions had reduced Steve to this. God, Danny had really fucked up.

"But I did," Danny said.

"Sure, this time," Steve said, bitterly. "What about next time?"

"There's not going to be a next time," Danny said, firmly. He packed as much conviction in to his voice as possible, hoping Steve would hear it.

"How do I know that?" Steve demanded.

"You don't," Danny admitted, "but I swear it's true. I'll never do that again."

Steve's eyes filled with tears. "You'd better not. I couldn't take it if you did. I don't know what I'd do if you left me. I don't think I could make it without you."

Danny tentatively reached out a hand and touched the blankets. He wanted to hold Steve's hand, but he couldn't find it in the tangled mess. This time, Steve didn't pull away. That was progress, Danny figured. "I won't. I could never live with myself knowing I did that to you. You're the most important person in my life, Steve. I love you more than I love anyone or anything except Grace and Charlie. I don't know what I was thinking when I walked out. It was stupid, and I hurt you, and that hurts me."

Steve sniffled, but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "If you come back, will you move in for real?"

Danny nodded. "I already packed and brought over all the suitcases I owned. You should see the Camaro. You can't see out of the back seat. Even the trunk is full. I had to tie it down with rope." Danny gave a quick grin, gratified to see Steve smile weakly. "You're going to have to put up with it all—all my ties, all Grace's make up, all Charlie's race cars, every animated movie Disney and Pixar have made in the last 18 years, all of it."

The hope grew a little. "And your lease?"

"Broken as of midnight tonight," Danny said. "That was the other thing that held me up."

Steve looked worried. "But won't you have to pay a penalty?"

"I don't care," Danny said. "Money doesn't matter if it means I get to keep you. So, what do you say? Can I come back home?" Danny held his breath, hoping Steve would say yes, fearing he would say no.

Steve thought a minute. "Okay, but you can never do this again."

"I won't," Danny said, solemnly. "This is the worst mistake I ever made, hands down." Danny started to stand up.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked, a note of panic in his voice.

"To get my things," Danny said.

"No, stay," Steve said, frantic. "Please. I'm afraid if I let you out of my sight, you'll disappear."

"I'm not going to disappear," Danny said. "I'll be right back."

"Danny, please," Steve begged.

Danny gave in. "Okay, I'll stay. My stuff can wait until the morning." He glanced at the clock. "Later in the morning," he amended.

Danny hastily stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers and slid into bed behind Steve. Danny wrapped his arms around Steve's willing body and locked his hands across Steve's belly. Steve covered them with his own. "Sleep," Danny whispered. "I'll be right here when you wake up."

"Promise?" Steve asked, a note of uncertainty that Danny hadn't managed to erase entirely in his voice. Danny wanted to cry at the thought that all the assurances in the world couldn't erase that last little bit of doubt.

Danny kissed the back of Steve's neck. "Always, babe. Always."

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A/N: Whew. If I didn't make you cry, I didn't do my job.


End file.
